


to shape to the comfort of us

by orphan_account



Category: Union J (Band)
Genre: Cuddles, Cute, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of cuddles, M/M, Sickness, What is life at 3:36 in the morning, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Our Monkey's come down with a terrible bug. Prolly the flu, if his symptoms are what we're going by. Which, naturally, we are."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Or, the one where George has gotten sick and Josh, too, has come down with love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to shape to the comfort of us

**Author's Note:**

> For the Gosh Birthday ficathon :) More info here: http://unionj-fanworks.livejournal.com/10697.html#t40649

George wasn't at breakfast.

And, well, it wasn't like the boys didn't have lives outside each other, wasn't like _he_ didn't have a life outside them, but- it was George. George, the cuddliest of the lot. George, who couldn't go more than a few hours without an arm around his shoulders, or a hand ruffling through his hair. George, who thrived on affection and touches, like they were his air, as if he needed them to survive.

George wouldn't just _not_ show up to a planned breakfast. They had a few days off from the last photo shoot, but an interview was coming up in another one or two, so they had to stay in London, at their hotel rooms. It had been different, since they got off the X-Factor, but, Christ, of course it was. New looks, new phones, new friends, new _lives_ , but it wasn't like they'd changed fundamentally, or anything. JJ still rambled about horses when prompted; Jaymi kept pestering them all to read the Twilight books; and George was still a snuggly people-pleaser with doe-eyes.

As if Jaymi could read the frown marring Josh's face, broody and dark, he hummed, took another sip of his frappé, and announced, "Georgie isn't coming." Josh scowled a little more, plucking apart his breakfast sandwich and flicking it into the ground, a bunch of dusty pigeons beginning to fight over the bits of croissant. The weather was shit, as it tended to be in woefully cloudy London, with a thick cover over the sun and a light drizzle.

"What's happened?" he asked, finally, when JJ was too busy playing Angry Birds to rise to the bait. Jaymi blinked at him almost smugly, but before Josh could question what that look was about, he was already answering,

"Our Monkey's come down with a terrible bug. Prolly the flu, if his symptoms are what we're going by. Which, naturally, we are." Jaymi paused to sip his drink, passing his mobile over to show George's text message: _can u send my apologies 2 the boys? not feeling well enuf 2 join u guys :( sorry but ive been in bed w/cough n headache 4 the past day thnx again. xx_ , and then Jaymi added, "Poor mite looked like shit. I checked up on him before heading down here, yeah?"

And, well, if he shoved his plate back a little forcefully, who could blame him? JJ startled a bit, nearly dropping his phone, and the ridiculous noises emitting from it cut off abruptly when the app closed. "I'm going to see him," Josh told them, and Jaymi got that look again, like he was proud and frustrated at the same time. Deciding George being ill was more important than figuring out that shifty-eyed glance, he waved a goodbye with a forced grin and started walking.

The Costa Coffee they were at was only a block or three from their hotel, and it took only a minute or two to get to George's room, since Josh had started jogging, _fast walking, he decided in his mind, trying to make himself feel better_ , as soon as Jaymi and JJ had been swallowed by the crowd. It wasn't until he skidded to a stop outside of George's door, hand braced to knock, that he realized he had no idea what the hell he was doing... But, fuck, George was hurting, and Josh would be damned if he wouldn't do anything about it, no matter how little it helped. He would do his best to ease his mate's pain and discomfort. There was no harm in wanting to help a great friend, a best friend, he reasoned. So why did he feel so nervous now?

"George?" Josh called, knocking a bit and sighing, shifting around on his feet as the seconds tucked by without reply. "George!" he insisted, rapping a bit harder now, toe tapping and thigh jiggling the whole while.

There was a soft shuffling from the interior, and a croaky, ragged voice piped up, "Whos'it?" The door swung open even though Josh didn't have time to answer, and a sorry sight greeted him. George blinked at him listlessly, eyes cloudy and dull instead of their usual sparkling vivaciousness. His hair was disheveled and messy, flattened down on one side where he'd been laying on it, while the rest stuck up in random tufts and curls, reminiscent of a duckling with fluffy down. George's fringe lay flat and soft against his forehead, cheeks brilliantly pink while the rest of his skin remained pale and wan, and when Josh peered closer, he saw the strands on the back of his neck were matted with sweat, probably from the fever burning the flush bright on his face.

"You look awful," was the first thing out of Josh's mouth, and he felt terrible seconds after, watching the brief light fade from George's eyes. "Fuck. I mean, you really look like you're fighting quite an illness, yeah? Ignore me, I'm an arse. A rude arse who keeps sticking my foot in my mouth, hm? Can I come in?" With George, he had no filter, and it wasn't like that had changed now. George just nodded, a single bob of his head, as if he was too exhausted to do anything more. Josh slipped in, closing the door behind him and toeing off his shoes with an apologetic smile at his host. "Ehm? Go back to wherever you've holed up. I'm making you a cuppa and ordering a bowl of broth."

Once George had retreated to his room, Josh put the kettle on and pulled out the sugar, creamer, and a mug. After a quick ring down to room service, and ordering chicken noodle soup, the kettle was whistling, and Josh quickly turned the stove off. Pouring a cup, he sweetened it swiftly, knowing George liked it as sickeningly sugary as his temperament. He briefly regretted not just bringing George back a coffee from the Costa, but it was too late to dwell on that, and it probably would've just wound him up further anyway. At least the tea was some sort of generic chamomile, good for sleep and the tummy.

"You still awake?" Josh asked playfully as he entered the bedroom, only semi-jokingly. George blinked a few times and huddled into his nest, made up of his sheets and three blankets, and he took that as an obvious yes. "Cost eleven pounds for a bowl of soup, so I hope it'll be good," Josh hummed, settling beside George and pulling him in close, ignoring his half-hearted attempts to wriggle free, and feeble protests that Josh was risking getting sick as well; in no time, he had a lapful of boy, warm and soft and fuzzy around the edges, all his walls down. George was always a cuddler, but this was just _different_. Normal George was filled up with life, had it leaking from his infectious grin, sparking his eyes, a little bit seeping out in each touch, making the person of contact feel a bit of that pure enthusiasm for living. This George was needy and nearly silent, just wanting to nuzzle close and stay still as possible, bare-chested and too poorly to be self-conscious about the fact he was in nothing but sleep trousers while tucked into his side.

When the door was politely knocked on, Josh reluctantly nudged George off and padded to it. After tipping the bloke probably too much, he grabbed a spoon and made his way back to George with a sweet smile. "Oi, Monkey, 've got your chicken noodle right here," Josh chuckled, setting it on the side table as George only grunted and made weak grabby hands, clearly wanting to be back in Josh's lap, held securely in his arms. "Shush, little puppet, I'll kiss you better," he chuckled, settling more comfortably on the mattress and letting the lithe boy stretch himself out how he pleased, which turned out to be pressed back to his chest, George's soft hair tickling his jaw as he leaned over to grab the soup. "Open up," Josh ordered gently, slowly feeding him spoonful after spoonful, until he scraped up dry, and then set the bowl to the side. "There's a good lad," he teased warmly, feeling more than seeing George's faint but genuine smile.

He convinced him to drink some tea, then turned the telly on to some shit reality show, but George seemed interested enough, so Josh left it on. After petting and stroking his hair for some time, Josh realized George had finally nodded off. His body was lax and syrupy, muscles floppy and loose as he snuffled kitten snores into the side of his neck. George was lucky he didn't dribble like Josh did; this cuddling session would be a lot less pleasant soaked in drool. Josh was content, though, his boy curled up and comfy in his lap, a warm and solid weight that made him smile.

Several hours later, there was more knocking at the door, but there was no way in hell Josh would disturb George's sleep now, not when he clearly needed it so badly, even if their was a massive crick in his neck, and his bum was numb. A few moments later, Jaymi and JJ spilled into the room, shushing each other. Jaymi got that look again, watching the way George was curled around him like a limpet, but Josh knew what that meant now. Still, Georgie was sick, and a feelings talk could certainly wait until the poor thing was actually conscious.

"If you all keep quiet, you can stay," Josh whispered, feeling rather protective of George, for obvious reasons. JJ settled on one side, and Jaymi claimed the other, making it a tight squeeze on the twin bed, but a familiar, comforting one, nonetheless, bringing back memories of crammed sofas with limbs spilling off, or a puppypile on random furniture. George didn't stir once, and they all turned their attention to the telly. Nobody saw the gentle kiss Josh pressed to George's temple, but the ghost of smile that graced George's lips in turn also went unnoticed.


End file.
